“How did you get here so quickly without it?” It was something she’d wondered about ever since he pulled her out of the tent. There was no way he could have got here so fast.
“Scotch mist.” He winked at her. It was disarming. In her time on the run from a mundane life, there had been numerous occasions when Bobbie had been leered at, towered over, and glared at, and she had also caused many raised eyebrows, but to her knowledge, this was the first time in her adult life that a man had winked at her. Somehow, beneath the staid Boy Scout trying to doggedly drag her back to Blighty, there was a charming and possibly playful man who was amused at the situation.
That was when Bobbie finally admitted to herself that she really had caused him a lot of trouble.
“I am sorry about the fact you’re involved,” she told him. “It was nothing to do with me; my parents won’t listen to reason, but all the same, it must be a tad inconvenient for you to have ended up in the Orient when you thought you just needed to fetch a girl back from Italy or some such.”
“I was rather hoping you’d head home after Istanbul,” he said wistfully.
“Constantinople. Fascinating, but the Turks won’t let it be anybody else’s business.” There were plenty of mysteries about Constantinople, but they wouldn’t be solved until the Turks allowed foreigners to investigate.
“Shame, it’s been gone for such a long time, you’d think they wouldn’t mind.”
“Apparently not.” She imagined how nice it would be to sit in a Turkish bath house after a day like this, with the hot water soothing away her troubles. Any bath would be wonderful about now. It would be nice for an hour or two, but what then? Dinner parties, dress shopping… where did it end? All the cripplingly boring in-between times when she was expected to wait quietly for the next event. If she went back to civilization, she would have to do all the things she was trying to get away from. “Anyway, this place is far more interesting,” she added.
“It must be, if you’ve come all this way, but what could possibly be out here, in the middle of a nondescript jungle in an out-of-the-way French colony?”
“Oh, there’s so much here. You would scarcely believe all the things I’ve read about. There’s been a deep-rooted culture here for over a thousand years; an incredible blending of Hindu and Buddhist traditions, and then there’s the fragments of evidence that a snake cult might have existed, too. I would love to find some evidence for it all.”
“You like evidence, don’t you?” The tone of his voice implied that he thought this was a peculiarity. Bobbie supposed that even amongst scholars, it wasn’t always the case that they had a shred of evidence to support their longwinded writings. In fact, many of them would take the evidence and say whatever they wanted about it. Often, facts were sacrificed to make way for romantic conjecture. While she didn’t think over-hesitance was a virtue, she tended to be more pragmatic than most when she wrote about the sites she’d worked on, preferring to state what she found and cross-reference it with historical notes rather than inventing entire narratives based on one-off finds.
“I thrive on it. If there’s no solid evidence, something might as well have never existed. History can’t be trusted unless the artefacts are there to support it. And people shouldn’t conveniently ignore evidence, either.”
“And this snake cult?”
“Chen—the chieftain; I don’t know what his story is, but he’s probably dead now—said he’d found a site that pertained to it. You dragged me out of there before I learned where it was.”
“I’m not sorry.” He sounded almost proud of the way he’d rescued her. She supposed he would be, and she knew she ought to be grateful, but really she hadn’t exhausted every possible means of saving herself so it was a little jarring.
“Well, I am. He sold an artefact from the site to a Swedish arms dealer, Gunnarsson, who thinks the item in question can summon a giant seven-headed snake. I don’t know how one grows to be an adult with ideas like that, but there you have it.”
“Aye, it certainly seems a bit farfetched. Look, I can see that this is important to you, but the jungle is dangerous and you shouldn’t be out here on your own. You’ve already been kidnapped once. We are going to stay in this area for a few more days. Look for the evidence you wanted, and regardless of if you find anything or not, we will set off for Britain on Friday morning.”
Bobbie sighed. “You’re going to keep hounding me, aren’t you?”
“Yep. You’re stuck with me until I get you home. And that means you have to do as I say from now on.”
“Or else what?”
“I’ll take my belt to you again. Or perhaps I’ll find other ways to punish you, instead.”
His tone made Bobbie thrill. It was filled with so much promise of dark consequences, and even though she didn’t want to be belted again, some part of her was curious about what else he might think of.
“If you irritate me too much, I’ll tie you up, put you in a sack, and take you back to England regardless of whether you’ve had ample time to investigate snake cults or not.”
That got her attention, and she didn’t like being over a barrel, but some part of her wanted him to overpower her, simply to prove that he could do it. If only the consequences of submitting to him weren’t her return to Britain. She nodded slowly. “All right. But you should know I’ll just make off again the very next time I want to go and investigate a far-off land.”
“And I’ll come after you again.”
“Why does it matter so much to you? I’m just going about my life, minding my own business, and I don’t understand why that bothers so many people to the extent that they insist on conspiring behind my back to make me fit a mould I will never occupy.”
“That’s no concern of mine. Your parents are worried, and they asked me to protect you, and that’s the start and end of it. If you want to gallivant around the world, you should do it safely and respectfully, not being kidnapped and who knows what else, so your parents aren’t sitting at home at their wits’ end.”
“Did anyone ever tell you something? You’re a crashing bore,” Bobbie knew she was being contrary, but she couldn’t help it. He was annoying her.
“Did anyone ever tell you something? You act like a whining child when you’ve lost. You should be more sporting.”
“Usually, I am.” She flushed furiously as she admitted that. Something about him really did seem to bring out her churlish, competitive, and above all, worst side.
“Come, let’s head back to the nearest village and get some supper, then we can rest for the night and you can keep looking in the morning. Hopefully by then the arms dealer is long gone.”
Bobbie bowed her head in acquiescence, then Sean led her back to his motorbike. They rode over the rough terrain until they reached the village.
* * *
The nearest village had no shops, no hotel, and no bar. It was really a collection of hammocks strung up between several dozen trees, with a sort of outdoor cooking area and some laundry drying on more string. The villagers were very taken with having two westerners in their midst, and they kept bringing what flowers, cups of water, and random items they had, which Bobbie felt obliged to graciously accept.
Bobbie usually had no trouble alone amongst people such as these, but she noticed that they treated her decidedly differently now that Sean was here. The villagers were uncomfortable and trying too hard to impress them, and Bobbie didn’t know how to respond. All the villagers’ questions were directed at him, but of course he couldn’t answer them, because he hadn’t spent the last three months learning their language in preparation for this journey. Every time Bobbie replied to one of their questions, they would ask Sean another one, and it quickly became tiresome, especially that they wouldn’t answer her questions about the snake cult, so after more time had passed than she wanted to spend on this, she feigned sleep.
After long enough, she really did fall asleep, but in the night, she awoke cold and with a sore neck. To h
er surprise, by the bright light of the moon filtering through the sparse leaves of the trees, Sean was flopped in a separate hammock. Carefully, Bobbie got down to the ground, then across to where Sean slept. Teeth chattering with cold, she clambered into his hammock and snuggled up to him, letting his body heat fill her with warmth.
She was drifting back to sleep, so she wasn’t sure if she dreamed it or not, but before oblivion claimed her for another night, Bobbie thought Sean had put his arm around her then kissed the back of her hair.
When she awoke, something was pressing into her lower back. Actually, that was a generous description. It was really pressing into her bottom. She widened her eyes then narrowed them. Likely a snake had fallen out of the tree above and landed between her and Sean. She hated snakes. It was probably poisonous; most of them around these parts were deadly. Keeping her body as still as possible, she moved her hand down to her thigh and slipped her gun from its holster in her garter. Behind her, the snake seemed to be twitching slightly; probably looking for a warmer spot to hide in.
While it was true that snakes were more afraid of her than she was of them, Bobbie knew that animals did all sorts of stupid and deadly things when they were terrified. As a result, the creature’s probable fear wasn’t the least bit reassuring.
Trying to aim at the damn snake would be difficult; it was pressing straight into the cleft between her ass and of course Sean was hugging her, making this even harder. If she got this wrong, one or the other of them could end up quite badly injured. She took the safety off and tried to contort her arm until the tip of her gun pressed against the twitching snake. Touching its thick round body, even with her gun, made her blood run cold, because until that moment she’d been hoping it was her imagination playing tricks on her.
Suddenly, Sean’s arm tensed around her body and she froze.
“Would you mind pointing that somewhere else?” he growled.
“Stay very still; there’s a snake pressed right between us,” Bobbie whispered in reply.
“That’s not a snake, Roberta.” His voice sounded slightly strangled, although Bobbie wasn’t sure why.
“I can feel it twitching against my… my… lower back!” Her voice began to rise in fear and she forced it to remain steady. “The barrel of my gun is touching it. There’s definitely a snake!” If Sean moved, the snake might bite one of them.
“You are pressing your revolver against the head of my cock, and I’d like you to desist at once.”
Bobbie couldn’t decide if that was reassuring or more horrifying, so she settled for removing the gun, holstering it, then getting out of the hammock and glaring at Sean.
“What is your… your appendage doing impersonating a snake at this hour of the morning?” she demanded.
“Sorry. It does that sometimes.” He shrugged and didn’t seem terribly apologetic. Irritated by how scared she’d been when she thought there was a snake, Bobbie gave up and wandered off in search of something to drink. Just when she thought there might be something about him worth sticking around for, he went and proved comprehensively that men were just ridiculous as a species. She found some whisky in the bottom of her pack and took a deep draught.
A few minutes later, a tremor shook the ground beneath her. Bobbie looked around for the source of the rumbling sound that tore through the jungle, but nothing was immediately apparent.
Then, Sean’s voice quietly muttered from behind her, “Careful, there’s a snake coming.”
Bobbie rolled her eyes. “Really, Sean, don’t you think it’s gone far enough? This is in jolly poor taste, and—fuck!”
She dropped her line of argument completely when she saw a snake towering over them. It had to be at least twenty feet high and it had a long body trailing along the ground behind it, too.
That wasn’t the worst part, though. She counted them twice, to be sure; there were definitely seven heads. She took another deep draught from the whisky bottle, but it was quickly empty.
“There isn’t enough whisky in the world, sometimes, is there?” Sean muttered, running off to take action. Bobbie wanted to stay at his side and help, but her courage left her. If only it had been anything but a snake, she would have been fine. She growled in frustration as she ran in the opposite direction, out of the path of the snake. It didn’t seem to have a target in mind, but its aimless wandering was just as dangerous as if it was hunting. At any moment, it could slide over someone and crush them.
Bobbie was spending too much brainpower trying to get out of its way, and she pushed down the part of her that screamed that giant seven-headed snakes simply didn’t exist. A roaring sound was almost drowned out by the snake’s movement as it crashed through two trees, knocking them over.
“Get on! Quick!” Sean shouted, and Bobbie realized the roaring was coming from an engine; he’d retrieved his bike. Perhaps they could get away from the snake after all. Around them, the villagers scattered, trying to evade the huge monster, all of them too far away for Bobbie to pull anyone else onto the bike as she and Sean made an exit.
As they put more distance between them and the snake, Bobbie tried to think through everything. There was a giant snake. An actual, three-dimensional, ginormous snake. With seven heads. She had to hand it to the thousand-year-old Chinese diplomat; he’d not embellished in the slightest.
Sean stopped the bike somewhere after several minutes, and Bobbie saw the animal-skin tents in the distance.
“All right, Miss Evidence, what do we do now?” Sean challenged.
Bobbie fought to control her emotions. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t?”
“I mean, obviously we need to kill it somehow, but until five minutes ago I thought the giant snake was a metaphor that got turned into a religious symbol, nothing more!” She rummaged in her pack and pulled out the translation of the Chinese diplomat’s story. Reading as fast as she could, she told Sean what it said.
“There was a ritual to summon the snake. Another ritual can bind the snake to a person. That’s what the arms dealer wants to do. Then another ritual still can send the snake back to where it came from. Each ritual requires a different artefact. At the moment the snake is wandering aimlessly. My guess is that the snake cult has summoned the snake.”
“So we need to find the artefact and do the ritual to send the snake back?”
“Precisely. According to this account, we need a sort of metal spear, shaped like a lightning bolt, called Ri-Loh. It’s the only thing that can get rid of the snake, now it’s been summoned.” Bobbie balked at the idea of confronting the snake, but she knew someone had to, and it wasn’t like anyone else was falling over themselves to assist.
“Where can we find it?”
“My guess is, it’s wherever Chen found the idol he sold to the arms dealer. If we trail the arms dealer, we should find out where it came from.”
Sean shook his head. “We’ll look around the area and see if we can find it by ourselves, first. That would be the safest course.”
“Still planning to leave on Friday?” Bobbie asked, only half-serious.
“I think we have to see this through, now, although I hate to say it. I promised your parents I’d keep you safe. Fat lot of good I’ve done.” He looked wistful.
Bobbie touched his arm for reassurance. “It’s not your fault, old thing,” she said softly. “I mean, unless you summoned the bloody snake. In which case, it’s all your fault.”
* * *
“There! That’s when the guard changes. What was it?” Bobbie looked at her watch as she asked the question. “Four hours. They’re on four-hour shifts to guard the site.”
It had taken some careful searching, but they’d found the site where Chen must have discovered the idol. It was an impressive and intricately designed building, which was probably a temple, and two men guarded the door. Now, Bobbie and Sean were hidden behind some thick undergrowth and trying to find a good opportunity to get inside.
Gunnarsson must have seized co
ntrol of the site. His fair-haired lackeys were now overseeing some local men who guarded the site. Nearby, the animal-skin tents were on fire, and Bobbie felt a chill of horror as she realized the negotiations between Gunnarsson and Chen must have gone badly wrong.
“Normally these sort of buildings have at least two entrances; often they have four,” Bobbie murmured. “It’s rather strange that this one only has a single way in or out.”
“Do you think we can slip in through a back door?” Sean asked.
“Unlikely. These people don’t seem to be taking any chances, though. If there is another entrance, I think they’re probably guarding that, too, unless it’s inaccessible.”
“Stay here, I’m going to look around.” He acted like he had any idea what he was looking for or what he might do if he found it, which Bobbie found infuriating. She was about to say something to that effect, but Sean was gone already.
Regardless of what he thought, she knew she wasn’t going to stay here just because he told her to. She shook her head and looked up thoughtfully. The building was easily climbable, and she thought there was a darker patch high up the curving structure that could be a hole in the roof. Carefully placing her hands and feet on the intricately carved stonework, Bobbie began to climb. The sun seemed to be disappearing rapidly, but the further she got, the more certain she was that this was another way inside.
By the time Bobbie reached the hole, the sky was almost black. Not wanting to draw attention to herself, she slipped through the space and carefully landed on a ledge inside.
Putting her feet in the narrow spaces between carved colonnettes and using the small stone columns like a ladder, Bobbie climbed down to the floor and looked around. Reedy light from the bright full moon filtered through the gaps between the colonnettes, but it was difficult to pick out the details. She tiptoed around a corner and clapped her hand over her mouth to avoid screaming when she almost walked into someone moving in the opposite direction.
“Young lady, you are in a world of trouble. You disobeyed a very clear instruction to stay put,” Sean growled.
Protected by the Scotsman (Stern Scotsmen Book 2) Page 6
